Message-ID: <35299asstr$1014066611@assm.asstr-mirror.org> Return-Path: From: Jamie Norwood X-Original-Message-ID: <20020218093244.A85501@mushhaven.net> Content-Disposition: inline User-Agent: Mutt/1.2.5i X-ASSTR-Original-Date: Mon, 18 Feb 2002 09:32:44 -0500 Subject: {ASSM} Lynnea - Prolog (ff no-sex rom bi hs death) Date: Mon, 18 Feb 2002 16:10:12 -0500 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation X-Story-Submission: X-Moderator-ID: gill-bates, dennyw This is my first attempt at a story. It is inspiried by the general lack of romantic coming-out stories out the of late. I eagerly hope to hear feedback on this, positive or otherwise. I'm undecided if I will write the rest, but I would certainly like to, so any advice is GREATLY appreciated. The first part of this set things up a bit, and I warn you, is not the happiest bit of story out there. This starts at the end of the story, and if there is interest and feedback, I will write the rest. Any commentary can be sent to mistwolf@mushhaven.net. So here it is! Thanks for writing! Jamie <1st attachment, "lynnea-prolog.txt" begin> Prolog I sat in the chair next to Lynnea's bed, quietly holding her hand. She was sleeping now, something she did a lot of late. Sleep, though, was rarely the comfort we hoped it would be. For some, sleep brought about a relaxation, an easing of mind and body. I suppose, to some degree, this was true of her... But not much. Even in sleep, her face showed pain and sadness. No, for her sleep was no escape. As she confided in me in one of her more verbal moments, sleep was a robber that took away what little time she had left. I sat there, holding her hand and watching her face. I was alone with her now. Her family was away, taking a rare break to go home and freshen up. There wasn't much time left for her, but one could only go so long without a shower, without a few hours sleep in a comfortable bed, and the sheltered comfort of each others arms beneath a warm blanket. They were a close family, and they had accepted me easily, which still surprised me. I didn't come from a tolerant family, and in fact it had been a long time since I had exchanged more than polite pleasantries with my parents. For almost two years now, I had all-but lived with Lynnea and her parents. They treated me as if I were their own child, or at least, as much as anyone married into the family could be. They never judged me, never second-guessed Lynnea's choice of mates, never tried to tell us we were too young for the decisions we made, or too immature for the emotions we felt. And that acceptance was about all I had keeping me going, keeping me from loosing myself in the grief and frustration I felt. A small sound brought me out of my musings; Lynnea had shifted a bit, causing the sheets to rustle. She was awake now, and smiling at me, a weariness beyond her years in her eyes. "For a moment there, love, I almost thought it was a bad dream..." She said in a husky whisper. She didn't talk much these days, it was too hard on her. "You almost looked happy... You were smiling, and it's been days since you did that." I blushed and looked down, "I was thinking of us," I answered. "How wonderful your family has been." She squeezed my hand, and I looked back up. A sudden rush of emotion tightened my throat, and tears welled in my eyes. "Not many families, even in these days, would be so willing to accept that their daughter was in love... Let alone when her chosen mate was another girl." She smiled a bit more for a second, then it faded again. "They just wanted me to be happy, dearheart. We... We knew, even then, that I didn't have enough time on this world to be picky." She sighed, then, and looked away. I could feel her hand tensing a bit, and I waited, knowing more was coming. Her voice, rougher than normal, showed me the tears my eyes could not see. "I'm sorry, Chelsea. I... I should have told you, long before I did, before... Before you fell in love with me. You don't deserve to have this happen to you..." I squeezed her hand tenderly, "Shh, beloved. We've talked about this before... I came to terms with it long ago, and even now... I wouldn't do anything different. There is nowhere in the wold I want to be more than at your side." She turned back, and gave me a small smile. Her face had lost more of it's color, and she looked so very tired. I glanced at her monitors, weeks of watching the doctors and nurses care for her telling me what to look for. I frowned slightly at what I saw. A squeeze at my hand brought me back to her with a start. Her expression was sad, but had a peace to it that could only really mean one thing. She nodded, slowly, and looked over towards the door. "Don't go... They will come soon enough, and we both know they can't do anything." She coughed a little, and sighed. I whimpered softly, and held onto her hand as if it would keep the inevitable from happening. My voice was thick with tears, "No, love... They can... They can keep you here..." The words were hollow. There was no cure for what she had, and everyone knew it. "Besides, your mom isn't here, or your dad, and I can't do it alone, I don't want to be alone..." I was babbling, words pouring out. She let me, quiet as the torrent of words came out. Finally, the words ran out. "Tell mom I love her. And dad." Was her simple answer. As if she hadn't told them both that a million times. "Take care of them for me. They are going to need you." An almost clairvoyant moment hit me, and I knew for certain she'd told them the same thing about me. I nodded, throat too tight to answer. I tried to tell her I loved her, but I could make my voice work. So I simply held her hand, smiling at her and watching as her eyes went all unfocused. There are no words to describe what it feels like, or even looks like, to hold your lovers hand while they died. The world, to me, simply ceased to exist. It wasn't until I felt a warm hand on my shoulder that I knew the doctors were there. He offered me a sad smile, a vain attempt to be comforting as he reached over and turned off the monitors that were making a commotion. We'd all long since agreed that when she went, we wouldn't fight it. It was what she wanted, her last wish if you will, and none of us had the strength to fight her on it. And it wasn't until I woke up the next morning, alone in the bed we had shared, that I truly realized what was going on. Her parents, huddled together on the living room couch, pulled me into a hug with them, and we all shared a few moments of quiet tears together like that. After, Lynnea's mother spoke. "I'm sorry, Chelsea. We... We should have been there with you. You shouldn't have had to do that alone." Her voice was raw and it was obvious she had been crying most of the time since Lynnea had passed. I shook my head in violent denial, "No! You shouldn't apologize... I mean, how could we know? If you had, you would have been there..." I looked at her, and my throat tightened, again robbing me of speech. It was then I realized that I had gotten the better end of things. I, at least, had gotten to say goodbye. I whimpered softly, and hugged her tightly. She cradled me to her, and petted my hair. It was a very comforting gesture from someone that was more like a mother to me than my mother. "You are welcome here, Chelsea, for as long as you like to stay. I know your family... Would never understand, never accept. Either you, or what you have been through. At the least... We hope you will stay until you graduate." I nodded at her, and whispered a soft thank you. Looking around, and at my mate's parents, I felt my emotions welling up again. Lynnea's mother offered a sympathetic smile, and nudged me back towards the stairs, "Go. We'll be Ok, here. I think... You need some time alone." I nodded, and smiled thankfully. She truly understood me, and I knew she would respect my needs and not feel slighted. I returned to our... To my bedroom, and sat on the bed. My tears, while quiet, were no less intense. After a while, I looked around. I noticed, then, something on the bedside table, and leaned over to pick it up. It was a small box, wrapped with a bow, and on it was a note. It said, simply, "Lynnea wanted us to give this to you. She said it would help you. -Mom" I opened the box carefully, and my eyes widened at what was inside. It was my journal, the one I had thought destroyed. It had been ripped up, destroyed in an event I won't get into here. How she had gotten what remained of it, and how she had repaired it, were a mystery to me at the time. There was a bookmark in it, and I noticed the date with a smile. It was the day I had first met Lynnea. How little I knew then, my adolescent mind prattling on about the new kid at school. A small piece of paper was there, and I read it with a hear that felt like it would burst. "Chelsea, my love, my beloved. I know nothing can magically fix the pain you are feeling.... I think, truly, I have the easier role. All I have to do is die... You have to live without me for the rest of your life. I know, if I lost you... I wouldn't be able to go on. But you can, because you are strong. After your mother found your journal, and learned just what we were, and you had that big argument... You were so broken up about how she had destroyed it. So when your brother showed up later with the remains, I knew that I had to fix them. It took a long time, and I only finished a short while ago... Your mother is very good at destruction, which I guess suits her. I have marked the page where you met me... Please, for me, start reading there, and read to the end. The day we met was the day my life began, and I hope that by reading it, it will be like I am there, if only a little bit. I love you, with all my heart and soul. -Lynnea" I sniffled, and wiped the tears from my cheeks. Huddling back into the pillows, I started reading. I'd always kept a detailed journal, so I would always know were I came from, and this brought my past to vivid life. Reading the words, I could almost see the past... To be continued (?)... <1st attachment end> ----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------ Notice: This post has been modified from its original format. 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